


The Rest of the Picture

by turnitup



Category: SEAL Team (TV)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:01:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28419543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnitup/pseuds/turnitup
Summary: The NSFW continuation of ArcticSwan's Forbidden Fruit - Chapter 19.
Relationships: Scott Carter & Trent Sawyer, Scott Carter/Trent Sawyer
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	The Rest of the Picture

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArcticSwan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcticSwan/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Forbidden fruit](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27508426) by [ArcticSwan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcticSwan/pseuds/ArcticSwan). 



> This is a continuation of chapter 19 from the amazing ArcticSwan's fic "Forbidden Fruit". Thank you for letting me play in your sandbox! 
> 
> For clarification - the copy bolded and italicized at the beginning of this fic is taken directly from the brain of ArcticSwan to provide a bit of context for new readers but I really do recommend checking out Forbidden Fruit prior to reading!

**_Metal leaned in, his pelvis pressing against Trent’s. Then he grinded his hips a bit, “You can’t say you don’t want to…”_ **

**_“No, I want to…” Trent swallowed hard, “I really want to.”_ **

**_The fingers inside his waistband slid towards the button, “What do you say T?”_ **

**_Trent nodded as his lips found Metal’s, and Metal started unbuttoning his pants._ **

* * *

As soon as Metal presses his lips against Trent’s, he feels the resistance melt away.

The hunger in Metal explodes after he gets a taste of Trent. He winds his arms around the other man’s neck, weaving his hands up through silky hair, starving, trying to devour as much of him as he possibly can.

Metal can feel his own length hardening now, feels his hips tense as he resists the urge to grind down on Trent in a the team bunk’s in the middle of the desert, for fucks sake. Trent, however, with pure abandon, presses his hips up to meet Metals. He whimpers, a sharp beg for friction that vibrates from one set of lips to another.

Trent breaks away far sooner than Metal would have liked.

“Be quiet, idiot, who knows who might still be nearby.'' he scolds.

“We’ll be fine – Sonny’ll keep ‘em occupied for a while yet. Come on, babe,” Metal murmurs temptingly. Trent sighs and leans in closely to Metal’s ear.

“And what the hell kind of guy gets a boner in this situation?” He whispers teasingly, beginning to lick at the sensitive skin under his ear.

“And what kind of guy- aah- makes out in a warzone?” He pants back. Metal braves a hand over Trent’s cock, “And isn’t it kind of hot?” He smirks.

Trent feels a well of emotion bubbling through him, all sorts of arousal and affection things, and it all comes spilling out with a “Fuck it!” And a kiss even more fervent than the last.

Trent finally dips his hand under Metal’s waistband, pulling down his pants just below the thigh, jerking him off through the thin fabric of his briefs. Metal sighs lowly and Trent’s calloused palms grope, craving more, more, more.

Metal shoves Trent to the floor and hastily tugs Trent’s underwear down, nearly salivating at the sight of his dick springing free. He grasps at it firmly, hardly able to contain himself as he lowers himself, sucking a wet kiss into Trent’s hipbone.

Metal licks a stripe across Trent’s head, then sinks his wet lips over it. Trent sucks in a sharp breath; and with its exhale leaves any will to fight this. Metal sinks his head as far down as he can, Trent’s cock sliding to the very back of his throat. Trent can’t help but buck his hips up into the slick warmth. Metal gags a bit, struggling to take as much into his mouth as he can. His eyes water and saliva drips down his chin, but he pushes himself further yet. He holds for a moment and Trent worries he’ll suffocate, but Metal finally pulls off. His face is streaked with saliva, contorted as he struggles for breath. A string of saliva connects his pretty red lips to Trent’s tip, which Metal wipes away with his arm. Trent thinks he looks irresistible.

He hoists Trent up roughly and sits him on top of the desk. He buries his face in the man’s neck, lips mouthing heavy over his pulse. Trent shivers in anticipation as his pants are slide further down his thighs, feeling Metal’s fingers running over his skin with grace. His calloused fingers are confident as they grip Trent’s aching dick. His body buckles when Metal thumbs over his leaking tip.

Trent claws at Metal’s shirt, his eyebrows knit tightly in frustrated pleasure, wanting more. Metal runs his other hand up Trent’s thigh. He squeezes at the soft flesh, perhaps a bit too hard. Metal feels Trent’s dick pulse out a bead of precum into his hand. Trent lets out a choked and needy moan, and Metal can feel his own cock throbbing. He flips Trent over, face down into the desk.

Metal runs his palms over the smooth skin. Gently, he circles Trent’s rim with saliva slicked fingers, eventually pushing past with easy compliance. Trent tenses with the quick bite of pain before the pleasure takes over as Metal works him open, breathing heavily and straining to keep in the needy moans that threaten to tumble from his throat. Just when he thinks he can’t take a second longer, Metal lines up at his entrance and slides in.

Trent lets out a low, hungry groan. Metal takes hold of Trent’s waist and fucks into him quickly. The desk protests with a small squeak, squeak, squeak, as its legs scrape against the floor with every movement. Trent tries to brace himself but finds his curling toes barely touch the ground. Instead, it’s all he can do to grab the desk and hold on tight.

He’s struck suddenly with how filthy this is, how adolescent and reckless. It only makes him bite his lip and stuff down another moan. Metal’s thrusts are quick and to the point, unrestrained. He grips Trent from below and lifts him up a bit, angling his hips just right and oh-fuck.

“Aah! Metal-ah, yes, there, its-I-yes, Scott,” Trent stutters. Metal grunts lowly and slams into the spot, thick and heavy, over and over again. With every thrust Trent, as if on cue, lets out an involuntary whimper. Trent fists his hand around his own length and pumps himself fervently. It’s not long before they’re both sticky with sweat, panting, and close.

It’s Trent who comes first, with a stuttering cry of Metal’s name. Metal doesn’t slow the pace. Trent cringes at the overwhelming sensitivity, mouth hung open as he rides out his orgasm. Finally, Metal comes, spilling deep inside him. His hips thrust once, twice, three times, before slowing to a stop and he stills, slumped over. For a moment they stand, heaving, exhausted from their outburst of passion on top of the long hours of door kicking. Metal pulls out slowly and kisses Trent’s nape as he fully collects himself. After a moment they part from their sticky embrace. Trent slowly turns over, face still flushed gorgeously pink. Metal captures the sight, savoring the moment as he kisses him tenderly.

* * *

They clean up as best they can and redress, with only minor bickering (“why’d you have to do it inside?” Trent pouts). Trent fastens his belt back in place then goes to peek out the curtained window. The base is dark, Sonny’s bonfire in the distance throwing the only real light.

“Ready to go back to reality, babe?” He calls, one foot out the door.

“Wait!” Metal says, grabbing Trent’s hand and pressing a quick kiss to the palm. 

:Don’t forget your tags.”

Trent smiles and leans in for one more sweet tasting kiss.


End file.
